Karwa Chauth, with its sargi, rituals and moon-sighting, is as much about family and love as it is about tradition. (Photo: iStock/ For Representation Only) As I take the first bite of the perfectly square namak-ajvaain parantha made by Maa last night, with Husband sitting right next to me on the mooda in our kitchen at 6 am, with another perfect square getting warmed on the tava, it strikes me that this would be my 34th Karva Chauth. 33 years of fasting while married, and once when I was soon-to-be-wed. And I examine – for the 34000th time – my true feelings about this festival. I realize when it comes to KC – the term chagrins me no end but for the sake of brevity in typing without involving AI to do so for me, I am going to stick with this irritating short form – I am the one berating it to anyone who extols the virtues of it and I am also the one making all kinds of excuses to those wondering why I a modern, educated, so-called progressive woman am falling for this modern day patriarchal trap year after year. In every situation, I convince myself I am different, and somehow better than the one either KC-bashing or KC-hallelujahing. The Imposter Syndrome which follows me in every room or event, is quite the permanent guest when it comes to KC. While Mother-in-Law was alive, I convinced myself that I fasted to keep her Punjabi faith smiling and thriving. After her passing, I tell myself that it is to partake of the delicious sargi my Maa makes which has in all these 34 years always comprised a parantha – either stuffed with aloo or simply namak ajvaain. But in the backdrop of it all is Husband – who from Day one has been an enthusiastic participant in this vratting. He has fasted with me every single time – nirjal and all. And it’s not only his Punjabi enthusiasm keeping me company on just KC, Husband also fasted – when he absolutely did not have to because Punjabis do not have any such custom – during our Bengali wedding when I as the bride (Bengali grooms need to fast too. That way Bengali customs are pretty gender-equal!) had to fast until the wedding rituals were completed. I at least had the cheedey in the wee hours – he did not! And every year during Durga Puja, he does not touch food before our Pushpanjali is done. And so a large part of why KC happens to me every year, is because of Husband! I just celebrated Sindoor khhela a week ago. Enthusiastically. No questions asked. So am I being snobbish when I look down upon the Punjabi wives exchanging thhaalis? How is Bengali women smearing each other with sindoor and stuffing meeshti in each other’s mouths any different from almost fainting vratting North Indian women exchanging karvadaas and gossip in the early evenings on KC?!! Is my disinterest also because of the fact that my Maa never KC’ed except once because of an insistent relative? Her Dogri side KCees with as much fervour but married in a Bengali household she did not have to worry about it which suited her fine as not touching a needle on KC was a diktat she could have never honoured, being a surgeon! As my heart and mind keep tug-a-warring I realize that the only part which I have NO confusion about, is my complete aversion to the KC “Kathha”. Having heard it three or four times in my life, I have resolved never-ever to ever again. A husband’s love being dependent on how much seva the wife does, which love is easily transferrable to a maid because she does a better job than the wife, is something that should neither be preached, nor heard! Which leaves me with the question, how long will I KC for? I think the answer is – forever. With my own little changes of course. The Kathha has been thrown out of the mix a long, long time back as has the meeting of other vratting wives. The other thing for me is to not believe in the fear mongering part of the deal. “KC or ELSE!!” Spouses – and yes both spouses - praying for each other is great, but not with any threat looming large! Over the years KC has sometimes fallen on days I had a work trip. I remember one KC in Mumbai – I was staying in Taj Lands End – when the entire hotel staff joined in locating the moon for me! I was even granted special access to the terrace as that’s the only place I could sight the moon! But on all these work trips and the two times I was pregnant with the boys, I did not do nirjal KC. And that is the other change I have decided to introduce this year. No nirjal for either Husband or me!! Dehydration will hardly make the prayers better heard. A day without food though might do some wonders to the overfed body!! The fun part I will continue doing. Waking up in the wee hours and having sargi made by Maa with Husband, and Mother in Law watching down on us from the Heavens. Dressing up in the evening and sighting the moon with Sister-in-law, Brother, Husband and whichever of the set of our respective kids who is around. With the grand finale of eating Maa’s specially cooked dinner. So am I a KC snob or a KC phile? I would say